


Stupid Psycho Trucker

by tumultuoustrickster



Category: Celestial Bodies - Fandom
Genre: Mild Gore, Minor Violence, Other, dark trucker sun au, mentions of cannibalism, this is a romance i swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 21:04:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19709410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tumultuoustrickster/pseuds/tumultuoustrickster
Summary: You thought that hitch-hiking across country and getting stuck in a remote town for a week was bad enough.Turns out, accepting a ride out of said town from a cannibalistic trucker is worse.((A/N:Ignore the fact that celestial bodes got categorised as an original work, the characters belong to owlygem!))





	Stupid Psycho Trucker

' _Hitch-hike across the country_ ', you said. ' _It's a learning experience_ ', you said. ' _Horses can't smell that bad_ ', you said. This whole adventure's been a mistake. It's been about a week since you've been stuck in this weird town that's 'out past the boondocks' as the locals told you anf you're sick of it. You picked up an odd job here and there to get by, but you're getting desparate since there haven't been anybody driving past the highway to pick you up. There are only times you can shovel horse crap before you start developing a phobia. Your delicate hands aren't meant for manual labor. You're a city-slicker, damnit, and you're gonna stick to it. ...If you can ever get out of here, which is looking less likely by the day. At this point you're seriously starting to consider residency as your only option for long-term survival.

No. It can't come to that. You're terrible at a country accent, anyways. It'd never work out. You think back to the time you tried to say "y'all" to try and fit in. A shuder passes through you. No amount of alcohol could purge that memory from your brain. Nor could it pay that family's medical bills.

Poor chucky.

In any case, you've got to get out of here ASAP. Since sitting by the highway and praying someone picks you up before you get rabies isn't an option, you try asking some of the locals. Looking around, it seems like you only have a few options with how small of a town you're in.

You can go into the local bar: The Chariot, but the owner, Mars, seems like a bit of a hothead. He'd answer honestly, but your delicate constitution means probably end up crying by the time you left. On top of that, his bar is famous for being the source of the town's brawls. Next to that is the general store, the Mercurian, run by the similarly-named shopkeeper, Mercury. You'd probably get some good answers from her, but the short conversations you've had with her were just that: short. She's so cheerful, but talks too fast for you to keep up with half of the time. You could try your luck with the sheriff, but Sirius A (as the town had nicknamed the elder of the unfortunately and identically named twins) is a pompous ass at the best of times. You could also go around asking random people for help but who knows if you'll get a straight answer out of any of them.

Considering your options, it seems like mars would be your best choice. He'd give you a straight answer, if nothing else. Steeling your resolve, you walk into the musty bar and sit at the counter. Mars is behind the counter washing dishes as he waits for an order.

"What do you want?" Mars doesn't look up from his work to talk to you. You clear your throat nervously.

"I just wanted to ask a question abou-"

"I don't do small talk unless you're buying something. Or unless you're Phobos or Deimos," He pauses for a moment to glance at you. "And you're neither of them. So you either gotta buy a drink or get out of here before things get ugly."

You raise your hands in surrender. This guy looks like he'd rip you in half without any real effort on his part. You dig around in your pockets and slap some cash on the counter. "A-alright, then. I'll have some, uh..." You pause to consider your options, "...Something *really* spicy." You're definately going to regret this later, but at least it'd probably get you on *some* semblance of his good side.

He stares at you flatly for a second before taking your cash and shoving it all in the register. You guess you're tipping him, too. He turns and calls over his shoulder, "Coming right up." It only takes a minute before he pours your drink and sets it in front of you. He leans back and watches you as you pick up your drink.

"Uh, thanks." You stare at your spicy shotglass of doom for a moment before chugging the whole thing. Immediately, your mouth starts burning and you swear you start seeing stars. You choke for a bit but manage to keep your drink down. Tears and snot streaming down your face, you look at Mars. "...It's good."

Mars pulls up a stool and sits directly across from you, shoving a clean towel in your face. "Take this. Clean off your face so you don't get shit all over my bar." You nod and start wiping your face before he continues, "That was probably the dumbest fucking thing i've seen all day. You've gotta be desparate of you're willing to make an ass out of yourself like that just for a question." He crosses his arms, "So what is it you've got to say?"

You finish cleaning off your face and shove the dirty towel to the side. "Yeah, you've got me. I'm just kind of..." you clear your throat as Mars shoves the dirty towel somewhere under the counter "...Sick of being stuck here. So I wanted to know if there are any trucks that stop by here or if I should start picking up animal husbandry."

Mars rolls his eyes and starts wiping down the counter. "You've got the right idea trying to leave this shit hive. I've gotta stay because Phobos and Deimos need someone here to take care of them." He sets his towel to the side, sitting across from you once more. "Jupiter and Saturn are okay too. If you're looking to leave, you got lucky. There's usually some trucks that pass through here once every couple of weeks for supplies and fuel. If they're on schedule, they should be here today."

You sit up straight, excitedly. "That's great!", you reply, "Where will they be stopping?" You stand up and push your stool back into place, preparing to make your way out of the bar.

"They'll be at the gas station Jupiter runs just a couple blocks from here. There'll be a few you can try and hitch a ride from." You nod at mars and start to leave, but he reaches across the bar and grabs your arm before you can go and pulls you back towards the bar's counter, "If you want some advice, try and go for this guy called 'Sun'. He gets on my fucking nerves, but he'll make sure you get to where you need to safely." Surprisingly, he lowers his volume so he's mumbling before leaning in, "Make sure you're careful about _which_ Sun you go to. There's two of them that stop here and the other guy is..." he raises his free hand in air quotes "'Interesting', to say the least. Like the 'don't be alone with him' kind of interesting."

Mars' change in disposition startles you, if not for his newfound inside voice then for his seemingly gentle demeanor. You brush it off though, pulling your hand back. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for the help, Mars," You call over your shoulder before heading out the door.

‐--------  
Behind you, Mars shakes his head. "That fucking dumbass is gonna get themself killed." He sighs before standing up straight. "At least I can say I tried to warn them if Sun tries to start shit with me over it." He pours himself a drink and gulps it down before continuing with the dishes. "It's not my problem anymore."  
\---------

It's not too long before you get to the gas station that Mars was describing. You sit in front of 'Jupiter's Juice-em-Up' and watch the scenery as you wait. You do have to admit, it's pretty beautiful out here. Even though this place is too 'country' for your day-to-day tastes, you wouldn't mind coming back for a visit when the memory of your reckless cross-country tour is...less fresh in your mind.

After some time, you see some big rigs pull in and start filling up on gas. _Finally_. Some of them chat each other up as they wait while others head into the building for some food. There's a few people here filling up on gas, so one of them's bound to be Sun. Standing up and stretching out for a bit, you head inside and try to see if you can find this apparently infuriating trucker Mars was talking about.

There are a couple of people in the aisleways. Some of them are short and skinny, some of them are tall-ish and chubby. One guy in particular is tall as fuck and built like a goddamn brick, with a long black mess of hair and a dark blue baseball cap. None of them look particularly 'sunny', though. You walk up to this old man with a long beard and a big pointy hat. He kinda like a wizard in a nightgown. "Excuse me? Can I get some help?", you ask.

"DO I LOOK LIKE A GODDAMNED STORE EMPLO-YEE TO YOU?", he bellows as he whips around to face you. "I AM NOT AN ENCYCLOPEDIA," he continues, jabbing an old wrinkled finger onto your chest.

You start to back up. Is everyone you talk to today going to be this aggressive? You stutter out a reply, "T-that wasn't what I meant! I just needed some help finding-"

The weirdly aggresive wizard continues his approach. "YER GONNA NEED HELP FINDING MY FOOT IN YER ASS WHEN I'M DONE WITH YOU YOU SON OF A-"

"Now _hold on_ just a second," A deep, gravelly voice interrupts the old man's rant from behind you, "Is that any way to talk to someone, Methuselah? You should mind yer manners around strangers." Methuselah? That's pretty fitting. He looks like a Methuselah.

Methuselah shuffles backwards and crosses his arms, "This whippersnapper was trying to treat me like some kinda _employee_. I was just going to teach them a lesson!" He huffs and straightens his back.

The stranger continues in a southern drawl, talking like he has all the time in the world to finish, "What you were gonna do was get someone to call the sheriff on you for assaultin' this poor stranger." Methuselah's posture sinks. This guy is impressive, whoever he is. It's a good thing he showed up. He continues, leaning forward and shrouding you in a dark shadow, "... **And we both know that you wouldn't last that long in a prison cell.** "

Methuselah stiffened up at that last bit. His head lowered as he seemed to consider his options before clearing his throat, "Well! It seems like you've got this miscreant under control. Just keep them out of my sight before I do something we're all going to regret." With that, he storms off, grumbling about today's youth and their lack of respect. You sigh with relief and turn around to thank your savior properly.

Surprisingly, it's that really tall guy from before. He's got a goatee to match his hair, which is just as stringy and messy as before. It's looks like it's in bad need of a wash. He's wearing a dark colored tank top and jeans that's a stark contrast to his pale skin. Seriously, for a trucker his skin is impressively pale. It's almost hard to look at. His eyes are bright blue, with dark eye make-up to match. His eyebrows are _huge_. You think about your own and internally cower in shame and pity. He's looking at you with a lazy smile, hunching over with his hands in his pockets. He looks like he'd be pretty fat at first glance, but you can see that he's still _jacked_. He's built like a tank and looks confident enough to know it. He must stay pretty active. You think can see some red flecks on the hem of his jeans, but you're pretty sure it's just dirt.

Overall, he looks pretty friendly! A trucker you can trust, certainly.

You smile, "Hey, thanks for the help back there. I'm not sure I could have fought off his old wizard fury on my own." You stretch out your hand for a handshake, "I saw you drive in with the other truckers. Do you think you can help me find someone?"

The tall trucker takes your hand, shaking it with a firm grip before pulling away. "It's my pleasure. Old man Meth can be a bit tough to deal with at times, but it won't take much to scare him off like that.", he grins, showing a mouth full of sharp teeth, "Who do you need help findin'? Did you lose a friend or somethin'?"

You shake your head, "No, I don't have any friends here to lose, anyways. I just got stuck here on a trip and was wondering if you could help me find a guy called Sun. I was told he could help me get out of here."

His eyebrows raise and he stands up straight. "Is that all? Well, shit, why didn't you just say so? *I'm* Sun, named so for my sunny disposition, rather than my looks." He gestures to his hair and outfit.

"Oh!", you exclaim, "Oh, *you're* Sun! Well, Sun, it's nice to meet you! Can I hitch a ride out of town with you?" You get down on your knees. You've been humiliated enough that you have no dignity left at this point. " _Please_. I need to get back home. I've been stuck here for a week and can't take another day of shovelling horse crap for chump change." A small tear drips down your face from the corner of your eye. You are the picture of pity. It's you.

Sun laughs and pulls you off of the ground. "Now, you don't gotta beg on yer knees like that. I'll be more than happy to take ya." He wipes the tear off of your face with the pad of his thumb. "And don't go cryin' like that. There will be no tears as long as i'm around," he smiles gently. Oh gosh, this guy is charming. He's got to be the sun that Mars was talking about; you can't imagine the other guy being as nice as he is.

You follow Sun as he rings up his snacks, grabbing a few for yourself and buying them. The cashier keeps looking between you and Sun, who's waiting outside for you. It's almost like this guy is scared. "That old guy, Methuselah, shake you up, too?", you joke as they count out your change. He jumps at that, mumbling some sort of agreement before shoving your change in your hands and the bag of snacks. "Oh, uh, thanks." You wave goodbye to the jumpy employee and walk out to where Sun is waiting.

He lifts up the bag of snacks he's holding. "Got what you need to go?", he asks. You nod in response and follow him to his truck. He walks up to this black 18-wheeler and unlocks your door, grabbing your waist and lifting you into your seat.

Your face turns pink as you turn to him, "I could have gotten in myself!", you protest.

Sun chuckles in response, "Heh heh, I'm just tryin' to be a good host. Wouldn't want you to drop anything while you're climbing inside." He plops your bag of snacks on your lap. When did he get this? "Like this, for example, which i found on the ground after I carried you into your seat," he says before he walks around the front of the truck and hops into the driver's seat.

You look around as the two of you buckle in. The inside of the truck is pretty clean and well cared for. The seat and floor are both dark blue (talk about being dedicated to an aesthetic, jeez). There isn't any trash on the floor you can see. Just some more red flecks on the carpet beneath your feet. He must have sprayed air freshener in here at some point. The car smells strongly of pine trees, but there's a sick, almost sour scent barely detectable underneath it. Other than that, it's pretty nice in here.

Sun looks over towards you. "Ready to say goodbye, or shoyld i leave you and the gas station alone for a bit?", he jokes.

You laugh at that, "God no, i'm not saying goodbye. You couldn't pay me to stay here. The gas station will have to mend it's broken heart on it's own", you retort, watching someone remarkably similar looking to Sun with a much brighter outfit and hair color hop out of his truck and start filling up on gas. That must have been the other guy Mars was talking about. He looks pretty sunny, but who knows what secrets he could be hiding! You watch as he pulls a candy bar out of his pocket and start eating it. Absolutely *dastardly.* You turn back to Sun as he starts up his truck and pulls onto the road. "Thanks for letting me hitch a ride with you," you tell him.

Sun smirks as he merges onto the highway. "The pleasure's all mine, pal. I'm always glad to have someone on the road with me," he responds, keeping his eyes on the road as he talks. You yawn and stretch your arms above your head. Sun glances towards you, holding his gaze for *just* a second before he smiles fondly and turns his eyes back towards the road. "You know...", he starts, "You could take a nap while I drive. I'll avoid any potholes for ya."

You nod and say, "That would be perfect, thanks." You lean against the door and try to get comfortable, but can't seem to find a good position. Maybe Sun has something that can help? "Hey, mind if I check your glovebox? My neck's killing me", you ask as you reach for the glovebox.

"Hold on, don't-", Sun starts to warn you, but it's too late. You open the glove-box right as he starts talking and find yourself staring at a bloody, severed hand that looks like it's been chewed on and some bone splinters. It smells rotten.

You think you're gonna be sick.

You start to stutter out, "S-sun, what-", before Sun slams his balled-up fist into your chest and forces you into the back of your chair. In one motion, he grabs a large, serrated hunting knife hidden next to your seat, slams the glove-box shut, and holds the knife against your throat. Shit shit shit, this is bad.

" **Well** ," he almost growls as he speaks, his eyes still fixated on the road. His smile has grown into a wide grin that reveals a mouth full of sharp teeth. " **You weren't supposed to see that**."


End file.
